


Prisms

by Greyhound



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, blurr has dyscalculia, swindle is sorta gay in this sorry i dont make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16489814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greyhound/pseuds/Greyhound
Summary: Blurr struggles with numbers, and Swindle has a proposition.Prompt meme fill for the lovely @bastardroomba on tumblr.





	Prisms

**Author's Note:**

> hello mtv and welcome to my crib
> 
> the prompt given was “I don’t want to screw this up.” 
> 
> i was aiming for shippy and i horribly missed but hey i mean whatever 
> 
> named after [Prisms by 65DaysOfStatic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMp3hovjQyQ) bc that's what I was listening to

Swindle was an observant mech - one had to be, in his line of work - but anyone even vaguely familiar with Blurr could have seen that he was feeling down. The usual spring in his step was eerily absent, and there was a notable damper on his usual banter. Blurr had been a stupidly famous racer for _millennia_ , and when you're that famous, you get real good at putting on an act for the paparazzi no matter how much like slag you were feeling. Swindle of all mechs got it, perhaps more than anyone; you can't sell someone something whilst acting as blue as the bartender's glossy plating, whether what you were selling was an actual tangible product or not. 

Clearly, something was very, _very_ not right. 

Such a sorry state - and the obvious missed sales it was causing - was something Swindle could only stand to watch from the booth where he worked for so long. Grabbing his stuff, Swindle slid out from the booth, a new placement in mind. He moseyed on up, slipping his datapad into his subspace - all his invoices were written and no clients were waiting for replies, so work could wait for now - before coming to drum his fingers on the bar, just behind where Blurr was mixing something or the other together. 

(As much as Swindle liked a drink, the specifics eluded him.) 

From this close and even from behind, Blurr exuded a definite silent discontent. His shoulders slouched and though his servos worked with their typical efficiency, the flourish was achingly absent; typically they dipped and glided and _sung_ as they worked, dripping with Blurr's enjoyment whilst he chattered to his patron. That too; no chatter. Blurr, in this instance, was uncharacteristically silent.

Swindle made a mental note that he may have been watching Blurr's hands a little too intently whilst he mixed.

Blurr handed Tall Tankor his drink, and then his decidedly unenthusiastic gaze came to rest on Swindle. The way he typically splashed with excitement when a friend came up to the bar was completely void, and all he offered was a hollow, void smile. 

No no no, this was not good at all. 

"Hey," Blurr greeted after several beats too long. _Something_ ghosted his lip-plates in a sad approximation of a smile, and Swindle felt a definite pang of concern.   
"Hey," Swindle returned, before continuing, "usually I'd do my routine of skirting round and using a bad mood to butter someone up, but you have me genuinely worried, so as your friend I'll leave out the slag. What's up?" 

Oh, Blurr looked more than a little taken aback by that. He spared a glance around - at an off-peak time like this only his regular patrons were around, and they were all aware of his problem. Blurr himself wasn't exactly shy about it, either; he cracked jokes about it and generally took it in his stride. 

Just in this instance, it'd turned out to be a bigger problem than he'd thought, and it was grinding him down. 

"I told you about my problems with math, right?"

-

Blurr was many things. Charismatic, intelligent, and many would agree the mech was handsome. 

(Swindle didn't particularly like to linger on his stance on that last point.) 

What he wasn't, however, was good with numbers. 

Not that this bothered Blurr, of course; where his internal math functions would slip and mess up and drop numbers whilst trying to work out what exactly to do with them, his handheld calculator was efficient and reliable, and he felt no shame in whipping it out and totalling up prices or how much change he owed a patron. 

Stock management and similar admin endeavors on the other hand were a little more involved, and even after hours of deliberation and notes and checking and rechecking, all too often he'd still manage to arrive at an incorrect figure and have to run around doing catch up in order to compensate for a zero he had missed or a mis-written figure. 

Don't get him wrong, Blurr was generally a fairly chipper mech and by Primus he loved his bar, but sometimes his mathematical fumblings got him down. 

This time, more so than usual.

-

Swindle was pretty sure he got the hang of it, even with Blurr having to halt his explanation to serve a drink or three. 

"So just lemme check I've got this straight. You struggle to calculate the big figures, right? You lose track of how much you've got of what, you miscalculate how much it's gonna cost you to get stuff in, yeah?" 

Blurr nodded at this. Even with just his woes off his shoulders, he was already taking on a more typical demeanor, and the relief that Swindle felt was indescribable.  
"Yeah, exactly. It's frustrating. I'm sort of alright with smaller amounts and my calculator, but I get so confused and mess up with the more important calculations, and I'm worried that someday I'm gonna mess up real bad and-"

"You ever considered bringing in another member of staff?" Swindle cut in, stopping Blurr dead in his tracks. 

"What?"

"Someone to crunch your numbers."

"Are you hinting at what I think you're hinting at?" Blurr asked cautiously, raising an optic ridge. He stepped back a little, one fisted servo coming to rest on his hip as he surveyed Swindle, looking for...Something.

Swindle wasn't sure what. 

"That depends. What do you think I'm hinting at?" Swindle fired back, tilting his helm toward the mech on the other side of the bar and leaning further forward in his stool. Yeah, he'd considered getting up, but with his pitiful height it wouldn't have helped him much. 

"You're offering to help me, in that weird roundabout way you do."

"Bingo."

A beat, a moment. Blurr's optics dropped to where he'd knotted his digits together, clearly thinking over and considering. Swindle could damn near hear the other mech's brain whirring away. 

"I don't know...I don't want to screw this up. You know how important my bar is to me." Blurr's voice and gaze were open and vulnerable in a way Swindle didn't think he'd ever seen in the other mech. Immediately he caught onto Blurr's implications, but he felt no bitterness and no bite; just understanding. 

Empathy, and a strong amount of it.

Strange. 

"Hey, listen. I know I'm a bit of a...Figure with connotations, so to speak. And even if we are friends, exactly how far you trust me is up to your own discretion, I get it. But I mean, put it this way, it wouldn't be in my best interest to suck you dry. If you go under, that's a loss of regular income for me, too." Sure, Swindle had his regulars, but the nature of his trade meant that even regulars weren't regular, timing wise. 

In short, it brought him a sense of security. 

Swindle just hoped Blurr would be down.

There was a brief moment where Blurr thought things over, before he gave a short, sharp nod, a genuine smile coming to actually grace his features, something which made Swindle's spark turn over in a way that he tried to convince himself was only out of excitement for the prospect of a new business partner.   
"You'll have to wait about 'til closing time, but we can work something out. Welcome aboard, Swindle."

No more screwing up.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you ever so much for reading!!
> 
> feel free to come say hey over @ my tumblr, it's @encoders!!


End file.
